*
summer comes
with invisible mirrors
on which each one stares
poses and eventually
struts away
indifferent are the spaces
on which people pause
I look up at the abundance
of details I look at them
and turn my eyes to
the parching fields
.
.
.
.
*
she huffs and puts her face
down lined up with the concrete
patiently waiting for me
to remember to feed her
as I read and write and forget
the cat comes protesting
instead loud and demanding
until I get up to feed them both
.
.
.
.
*
I dreamed my secret name
yes it was written
on a white stone
everything was crystal
clear then just like
the sky today harmony
coated and I felt so
relaxed so sleepy
.
I fell into another night
when I woke up I could
not make out the writing
and I got news of more
deaths more killings
more drowning crimes
.
if I could if I just could
tell everybody their
secret names
waking them up to life
.
.
.
.
Sunday’s posts are dedicated to Italian Poetry
*
la conoscenza non è
l’intuizione della bellezza
non colpisce allo stesso modo
nè affonda come una radice sottile
nutrendo l’anima come
una pupilla dilatata che si apre
alla meraviglia
la bellezza è spontanea
.
.
.
.
Sì, la domenica le poesie saranno in italiano!
Tuesday Poems will be in English as usual.
.
*
shy me lord
of what sinks me down
as I fall asleep
let peace wrap me up
my thoughts
lighten my worries
remove just
a timid smile to
welcome you
.
.
Sunday’s posts are dedicated to Italian Poetry
*
mi adorna
un sorriso inaspettato
io che attendo poco e vivo
d’ora che esploro sorvolando
non trattengo nulla lascio
che il movimento accada e non ho
indirizzi punte di spilli o di matite
mi trovo felice tra le ultime tre righe
.
.
.
Sì, la domenica le poesie saranno in italiano!
Poesia tratta dai “California Notebooks” in vendita da Feltrinelli.
This poems can be read in its English version here.
Tuesday Poems will be in English as usual.
*
the volume of the sky
above me and the land
stretching from my feet
.
.
.
.
.
.
*
knowledge is not
the intuition of beauty
it doesn’t strike the same
nor sinks deep as a thin root
nourishing the soul as
a dilated pupil widening
to the wonderful
beauty is spontaneous
.
.
.
.
*
me decorated
with an unexpected smile
.
I now expect little and live the moment
exploring while passing over
.
I’ve quit detaining I let
motion befalling having no
.
more addresses, pinheads or pencils
I found my self delighted
in the last three lines
.
.
.
This poem is part of the first volume of the “California Notebooks”. If you wish to get your own copy click here
.
*
I am a drawing compass
one feet pointed the soft
one bent on a dance to
go from here to there to
close the circles to jump
out to run free today
.
.
.
.
Sunday Posts are dedicated to Italian Poetry
*
una volta
facevo parte di mio padre
a anche facevo parte di
mia madre
più tardi anche
se non letteralmente
fui parte di altri
più avanti sarò parte
delle radici degli alberi
contribuirò alla folgorante
bellezza dei fiori
sarò parte dell’acqua
su nel cielo da qualche
parte per tutto il tempo
io ero parte di dio ma
qui tu ti irrigidisci
di colpo e obbietti
che non posso
provarlo
.
.
.
Sì, la domenica le poesie saranno in italiano!
Questa poesia è a pagina 54 della raccolta California Notebooks 02 .
This poem was published in English last Tuesday.
Tuesday Poems will be in English as usual.
*
I was once
part of my dad
and also part of
my mother
later but not so
literally I was part
of someone else’s
further I will be part
of the trees’ roots
contributing to the
flowers’ beauty
part of water
somewhere in
the sky all along
I was part of god
but here you
stiffen and say
I cannot
prove it
.
.
.
This poem is on page 55 of the published bilingual collection California Notebooks 02.
.
.
*
forever is to renew
what I already have
every day
.
.
.
Sunday Posts are usually dedicated to Italian Poetry, this Sunday is Bilingual.
I kindly invite you to watch this video, for images, sound effects and voice. I’m posting below the text of the poem featured in the video in English and in Italian. If you view it on YouTube you could also request English captions as it runs.
Enjoy it!
*
a petal can lead
to an expanse of flowers
of poetry and lightness
surprisingly colored
to an internal suburban world
projecting me with telescopic
vision toward the earth I who
believes to be above it
within not yet under
I who believe and know no more
I who believes evermore that
I’m and nothing else matters
who loves to live an atom
at a time my own explosion
* ITA
un petalo può condurre
a una distesa di fiori
di poesie e pensieri lievi
sorprendentemente colorati
a un mondo interno extraurbano
proiettarmi con un binocolo che
guarda verso la terra io che
credevo di esserne sopra
dentro non ancora sotto
io che credevo e non so più
io che credo sempre più che
sono e non importa null’altro
che amo vivere un atomo
alla volta la mia esplosione
*
early this morning
the sun kissed
the tips of grass
like light
bulbs turned on
one at a time
to brighten the
soggy meadow
.
.
.
